Double Rainbow.

Title Of Story:  "Endymion"
Author and e-mail address:  Princess Plum Jade
Rating: PG-13(mild language)
Disclaimer: These characters are NOT mine!  I only lay claim to the characterisations of Drusilla's family and the characters you haven't seen on the show.  Everything else is Joss's.
Summary:   What if Xander had ever had a chance to meet the real Drusilla, the dainty little Victorian girl?  What if they ended up being perfect for each other?  Part "Normal Again" and part "Restless," this is purely romantic amusement.
Pairings:  Xander/Drusilla, Buffy/Spike, Willow/Tara
Spoiler:  After "Entropy" but before "Seeing Red."
Feedback:  I am VERY curious to know if I pulled this pairing off very well as far as charcterisations and believability.  Xander's not my favourite character and I don't have a real "hand" for writing Dru even though I really like her.

DISTRIBUTION: Please LINK BACK to this story on your website if you wish to feature my fic in your archives.
I prefer links because sometimes I edit and rewrite fic pieces and I don't want dated copies floating around the internet.
I don't change the URLs of the fics so I PROMISE you won't lose the fic!
If you're jonesing to archive in a big way and can't get past it, please e-mail me and we'll talk.

IMPORTANT
Any archivists affiliated in the "No Cookie for you Buffy Bad Fic" mess board (No, that's not a typo folks! Places like that actually exist! Can we say EW!!!!!!!!!) does NOT have my consent to archive any of my personal fan fiction or links to this website at their own websites.
If you are affiliated with this group and are already linked or archived fic from BiNE!!! in the past, please remove said links and work from your archives immediately. Thank you for understanding the idealogical differences that will not permit me to endorse such a thing.

Author's Notes:  This cooked up in my mind after reading this challenge at Shipper Dreams: 

"Write a Xander and Drusilla story set during the current season (6) MUST INCLUDE: 
1) a pet name for Drusilla,
2) a confrontation with the Scoobies,
3) a book,
4) Faeries (even just a reference to them) and
5) the word "discombobulated"

    I don't see how on earth Xander and Drusilla could ever be a romantic pairing except in the wildest dreams!  Of course, even that can be inspiring.

AWARD WINNER!!!
(see awards)

The Challenge Award at Shipper Dreams

The Phantom Manor Award at Drusilla's Phantom Manor

Best Other Pairings Romance Fic at Shades of Grey Awards

The Furry Award (Best Fluff) at Heroes Awards

Best Unconventional Shippers at Never Over Awards

Most Romantic Fiction at Ensorcelled Awards

Best Fantasy at Ensorcelled Awards

        
         



"And when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods
Make heaven drowsy with the harmony."

--Love's Labours Lost by William Shakespear  (Act IV Sc III)

Xander Harris walked in aimless circles through the empty playground in Sunnydale Park.  Sometimes he strolled casually, other times he paced wildly.  He had been doing this for the last three hours while he struggled to think and understand himself better.

How had his life gotten so out of control?  How could he leave Anya, just abandon her at the altar and leave her to explain everything to their wedding guests?  He loved Anya, he had loved her for a long time.  He had believed proposing to her was the right thing to do.  He had wanted her to be his wife.  At least he thought he did.

Then, after dumping her at the very last minute like a classic bastard, he had shot his mouth off at Anya when he and Buffy discovered Anya and Spike consoling each other on a reading table at the Magic Box. Damn those computer freak-geeks for planting that camera!  If only I had never seen them together, I wouldn't've lost it!

Xander knew what it was all about.  Anya wasn’t a slut, even though he hadn't hesitated to call her one.  He had smelled the trace of liquor on both Anya and Spike.  If he’d only had time to think instead of running straight to them.  But he’d gone after them and tried to kill Spike, he was so outraged and hurt.  And, as always, his hurt feelings and his quick tongue got ahead of his good sense. Way ahead.

To top it all off, Buffy and Spike had some sort of dirty little secret affair–Xander still couldn’t bring himself to grasp the concept that they might be in love.  That was just too much for him to take in.  Buffy!  Sleeping! And more! With–Spike!  How could it happen in the natural order of the real world?

Anya, sick of his foolishness, had finally told him off and reminded him that, after all, he had abandoned her, what right did he have to expect fidelity from her?  Xander knew she was right, although it hadn’t stopped him from shooting his mouth off at her anyway. 

If only he could think!  If only he could sleep!  Xander hadn’t slept decently since the day he told Anya he would never be ready to marry her and walked away quietly without looking back.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t loved Anya.  Xander knew the real reason he could not marry her.  No matter how strange and loveable and wonderful the former demoness was, she was too rocky, too strong.  He couldn’t be a hero to Anya, anymore than he could ever have hoped to have been for Buffy.  How could he ever match Anya’s powers or Buffy’s strength?  He was a man, after all, a slave to ego.  None of the women he’d ever cared about actually needed him.  And he needed to feel needed.

Sighing in frustration, Xander turned in a figure eight past the merry-go-round as it turned ever so slowly, pushed by a gentle breeze.  Leafy tree branches of five-hundred-year-old oak trees whispered amongst themselves.  Xander found the sound oddly soothing.  He had heard it all his life.  Willow and he had played here when they were very young children.

Willow wasn’t exactly pleased with him for how he’d treated Anya either.  It had taken her forever to learn to even like Anya a little bit.  Although she was loyal to him, his very best friend, Xander knew Willow thought badly of his actions.

Damn it!  His personal life was falling apart and it was his own fault!

Xander aimed a frustrated kick at a small patch of mushrooms growing profusely in the shadow of a large oak tree.

“You mustn’t do that,” a childish feminine voice trilled softly.  “Mushrooms are umbrellas for the Faeries.”

Xander swallowed so hard he choked.  He avoided the mushroom patch and directed his gaze to the tree where the voice was coming from.  A slim, petite form slowly walked out from behind the massive trunk.  She was such a pretty, delicate little creature, it was almost possible to forget how dangerous and evil she was. She reminded Xander of  Snow-White with her milky skin and raven hair.  Her lips were light red and her dark eyes were softly amused.

“What are you doing here?”  Xander stiffened up a bit and tried to sound threatening.  Great! On top of everything else stupid he had done in the last month, he was out and about at night without a cross or a stake.  “You know, Buffy’s deal with Spike did not include amnesty to return to Sunnydale whenever you want.”

Drusilla watched Xander calmly. “I’m hungry.  For tea and cake and blackberry jam.”  The lovely insane vampiress tilted her head thoughtfully.  “But there’s no company at home,” she added mournfully. 

Xander frowned.  For some reason, what Drusilla said struck a chord within him.  He racked his brain, trying to remember why her words sounded so familiar to him, but he was just too tired.

Drusilla slowly lifted her slender arm, reaching towards him.  “Would you like–”

CRACK!

Xander winced at the thunder that came from nowhere in the clear pretty sky. Now it’s going to rain on top of everything else! 

“I think maybe it’s time we both go home,” Xander said.

CCRRRRAAACCCKKK-BBOOOOOOMMM!

Drusilla fell to her knees and covered her ears with a soft cry.  Her eyes widened with fright.  Xander stared at her quizzically.  Was she afraid of the storm?  Good then!  He had a chance to get away.

“Drusilla go home!”  Xander began to turn away from her with every intention of fleeing.  A hard rain fell abruptly and he was soaked to his skin in minutes.  “Dru?  Go home!  Get out of the rain!”

But the little vampiress did not move.  Instead she hugged herself comfortingly, an expression of bewildered misery on her face as her thin white dress clung to her, thoroughly saturated even beneath the tree’s sheltering limbs.  Xander wasn’t sure if Drusilla was too frightened or too crazy to move. Some people don’t have enough sense to get out of the rain...

An ominous crackle reached Xander’s ears and he stiffened involuntarily.   Thunder didn’t scare him much–it was just a lot of noise.  But he had a childish phobia of lightning he’d never outgrown.  He glanced upward and saw splinters of electricity dancing in the night sky.

Xander wanted to do nothing more than run as fast as he could to the nearest building.  But the crackling he heard wasn’t just the lightning.  The oak tree behind him groaned painfully as a huge lower branch began to weaken and dip right over Drusilla’s head.  The thick-branched limb hung threateningly over her, a huge stake comprised of smaller stakes.

And this is bad because?

Xander swore, a vile word he only said in the most extreme situations. I am the craziest man alive!  If that branch comes down on her it might go right through her!  She could die!   That shouldn't have upset him.  Drusilla was a vampiress, over a century old and very dangerous. But the vision of the dainty elegant woman quivering into dust as the savage branch pierced her body horrified him.  He frowned at his own thoughts. I sound like Willow!

He strode over to Drusilla and began to yank her up from under the tree.  She didn’t object in the least as Xander bundled her tiny body easily in his arms and lifted her off the muddy ground.

CCCRRRRRAAAAAACCCCCCCKKKK!!!!!–BOOOOOOOOOMMMM!!!!

Xander felt the full blow of the ancient tree limb as it struck him hard in his upper back and the weight bore him ruthlessly to the ground.  Xander let out a gasp as pointy branches, twigs, and splinters penetrated his denim jacket and made his whole body spasm with agony.  He writhed against the weight of the branch, but could not budge.  Warm liquid trickled on his back, down the sides of his ribs. I’ve been cut, he thought.  It felt like he was bleeding a lot.

Xander grunted and made one last effort to push out from beneath the branch.  He felt weakened, the rain didn’t seem quite so cold. Am I bleeding to death or going into shock?  I’m not hurt that bad!  Am I? It didn’t hurt so much as it had just a few seconds ago. 

The last thing he heard was Drusilla’s frightened wail.

****               ***********************************

“Drusilla!”

Xander saw the young girl admiring a ladies’ shop window as she was attempting to cross the street.  She never even saw the runaway horse galloping straight for her, a cart of goods hitched behind it.  He ran quickly into the street, linking one arm around her slender waist, and hauled her right up off the ground.  The weight of her voluminous skirts sent them both flying over the curb and crashing onto the sidewalk.

Exclamations arose from the other people on the block.  “For goodness sake!”  “What a close call!”  “Such a brave young man!”  “Give them some air, please people!”

Xander slowly rose to his knees, easing his weight off the tiny young woman.  She was deathly pale, her eyes wide and frightened. 

“Are you all right, Miss?” he asked quietly.

“I knew you’d save me.”  Her whisper was soft and breathy.  Xander glanced over her concernedly. How can she be all right?  It’s mid-day and she’s not burning!

“Excuse me please!” 

Xander looked up curiously as a large-boned matronly woman swooped down towards them.

“Drusilla!  Get up at once!” she whispered harshly. 

Xander was stung by the coldness of the woman’s voice.  He looked at her strangely and she raised her eyebrows at him.  She might have been a pretty woman once, but there was an air of general discontent that made her unattractive now.

“I’m all right, Mamma,” Drusilla began.

“Of course you’re all right!” the woman replied.  “Get up right now, before you cause a scandal!”

Scandal!  For falling down in the street? Xander decided against asking the lady if she’d been potty-trained at gunpoint.  She probably wouldn’t get the joke anyway.

“Here.”  Xander held out his hand.  Drusilla shyly slipped her tiny hand in his and carefully climbed to her feet.  Her mother helped to smooth and arrange her skirts until they swept gracefully around her in a bell shape over her hoopskirt.

“It was very kind of you to assist my daughter,” the lady told Xander crisply.  “I am Mrs. Gardiner.  Oh dear!   I see your trousers are injured!”

Xander glanced down at his dark brown wool trousers.  A long rip opened one leg nearly to his knee.

“It’s nothing,” Xander replied carefully, wondering how any woman could be more distressed over a rip in his pants than her daughter’s nearly being run down by a horse and cart. 

“Dear me!  I’m certain Mr. Gardiner won’t object if you send us the bill for the mending!”  Mrs. Gardiner hastened to assure him

“It’s nothing, really,” Xander insisted.  “I’m only happy she wasn’t hurt.”

Mrs. Gardiner sighed.  “I’m afraid my daughter is inclined to daydream and get herself into scrapes often, sir.”

Xander stared at the lady and wondered what to say.  Drusilla’s eyes were downcast and she wouldn’t speak, but Xander saw that her rosy lower lip trembled. 

“Mother!”  A plump little girl in a long ruffled jumper over a puff-sleeved blouse spoke up.  “Here’s Drusie’s bonnet.”

“Thank you, Anne.”  Mrs. Gardiner accepted the bonnet, a delicate silk-covered, broad-brimmed hat trimmed inside with white ruffles.  She placed it none-too-gently on Drusilla’s head and jerked the satin ribbons into a large bow under the right side of her daughter’s jawline.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Xander asked hesitantly.  He had no idea what the hell had happened, but he knew damn well he wasn’t in Sunnydale anymore.  And Drusilla wasn’t a vampire.  It was okay to be concerned about her if she was human.

“Yes, sir,” Dru said in her soft little voice.  “I’m very well, thank you.”

Mrs. Gardiner glowered at Drusilla.  It looked to Xander like she wanted slap the girl.

A large dark blue coach pulled up alongside the curb.  Xander watched as the footman leaped gracefully down from his perch at the rear of the vehicle, and opened the coach door, hand held out to help the ladies in.

“Come on then, Tom, Miss Gardiner’s in a little state.”  Mrs. Gardiner propelled Drusilla towards the coach.  The footman gently took her frail little hand and assisted her into the coach.

Xander watched her carefully.  She seemed just fine, but her expression was miserably unhappy and he found himself really not liking it.  An earnest tug on his trouser leg directed his attention down to the kid sister, Anne.  She had a round cherub’s face and her mother’s strong features.  Xander assumed Dru must’ve taken after her father.

“Why don’t you ask to call?” Anne whispered dramatically.

“Anne, please get in the coach.  I’ve got such a lot of planning to do and I meant to do more shopping today!”  Mrs. Gardiner turned towards Xander again.  “Sir, I do apologise for all this inconvenience.  You will please let me know if there’s a bill about the trousers?  Just send it to Henry Gardiner at Number 5 Courcey Park Lane please.”

“It’s no problem at all.” Xander watched Anne hustle  up into the coach and sit next to her sister.  “But–but–” Xander tried to untwist his tongue.  “I’d like to call.  If I may.”  He looked at Mrs. Gardiner’s impassive expression.  “I’d like to know that Dru–I mean Miss Gardiner–” he added hastily when the lady scowled.  “I’d like to know that she’s all right.”

“It would be very nice if you called, Mr.–?” she prompted him.

“Harris.  Xander Harris.”

Mrs. Gardiner’s hard visage softened into a pleased smile.

“Mr. Harris!  From the Harris Construction Company in America!”

Xander wasn’t sure what to say, he just smiled as politely as he could.

“How nice to meet you at last!  We’re at home on Wednesdays.  Do please come for tea if you wish.”

“Uh–thank you!” 

“Drive on!”  Mrs. Gardiner directed her coachman crisply.

The driver stirred the horses and the coach rushed away with a lurch.

Horses and carriages?  Real British accents?  Women in big skirts? Xander stared down at his own clothing.  Instead of jeans and his comfortable denim jacket he was wearing a dark brown woolen suit.  The shirt had a high, uncomfortable collar and was fastened with a black cravat.

“Sir?”  A young boy in knickers and a loose shirt held something out towards him.

“Huh?”  Xander stared at the object and realised it was a walking stick.

“Ye dropped this, sir,” the youngster explained.

Reluctantly, Xander put out his hand to take the stick.  It was beautifully made, solid wood, lovingly polished with a solid silver handle shaped like a bear’s head.

“Thank you,” he said slowly. I’m actually good at hiding panic! Xander thought proudly. I’m not running around crazily, frightening the nice kid.

“Yer hat, sir.”  He boy pointed and Xander saw a dark brown top hat trimmed with a wide black ribbon band on the crown. Yeah, that’s probably mine, all right.  Looks like it matches the rest of this get-up. He bent to pick it up, dusted it off a bit, and put it on his head.  He caught a glimpse of himself in the dress shop window. I don’t look half-bad!

He grinned when a young woman arranging some merchandise in the window met his eyes, smiled, then looked away shyly.

“Mr. Harris!”  A man’s voice called urgently behind him.

What now?   Xander turned away from the window.  “Spike!” At least he’s dressed like me.  Now I don’t feel quite so weird.

“Miss Rosenberg arrived less than an hour ago an’ she’s askin’ to see you!”  The blond vampire’s skintone was darker than Xander had ever seen it before.   “What happened?” Spike glared disapprovingly downward.

“Geez!  Is everybody in this dream put out by ripped pants?”  Xander asked him.

“Please don’t make remarks like that on the street, sir,” Spike said easily.  “I promised your father I wouldn’t let you make a fool o’yourself in public.  And we agreed you’d call me my given name while we’re in England, remember?  Let me get a taxi and we’ll go home right away!”

“Fine!” Xander folded his arms belligerently as Spike stepped out into the street to summon a cab.  A horse-drawn one. What the heck is going on?

*************************

Xander eyed himself in the mirror of his bedroom as William, his valet, gently adjusted his cravat and arranged the light fringe of Xander’s dark curls over his high collar.

“Now, remember,” William explained.  “The Gardiners are a nice society family.  Don’t go into their tea party with a lot of mad republican ideas from your bloody discombobulated country.”

“Hey, Spike!  Watch your mouth!”  Xander turned to him worriedly.  “Or–did you say something nice?” He smiled sheepishly.

William stared steadily at Xander.  He was a good valet, Xander was lucky to have him, even if he did speak with an atrocious cockney accent.

“Don’t talk about the slavery issue.  Too controversial.  Be nice to all the ladies.  Not just Dru–not just Miss Gardiner,” he corrected himself delicately.  “It would be forward to pay her too much attention.”

“It might be better if you paid her no attention at all.”  Miss Summers, the housekeeper, spoke with a careless disregard for whether or not Xander would be pleased with her statement.  “People say she’s a raving lunatic.”

Xander glared at Miss Summers.  The housekeeper was remarkably sufficient for one so young.  He didn’t quite dare tell her off for fear she’d take offense and possibly wallop him.  It was a bad thing, being intimidated by one’s servants.

“I’ll thank you both not to say things like that about her!” Xander said firmly. Why am I defending Drusilla–of all people!–to Buffy?

Miss Summer’s blond eyebrows went up. Her down turned mouth curled downward.

“She’s a sweet young lady,” Xander added defensively.

“A sweet young lady who sees things no one else sees!” Miss Summers reminded him.

“Sod off, Summers!  Let the Yank have a bit of fun, will ye?”

For once, Xander was glad to hear Spike. Now I know I’m dreaming!*

“You just be careful!”  Miss Summers advised.   “I don’t want to see you trapped into marrying a lunatic!  You can do better than that!”

“I’m not interested in marriage, Miss Summers,” Xander said frankly.  “You know one of the reasons I came here was because I didn’t want to marry my fiancee.”

William motioned Xander to lift his right arm so that he could fasten Xander’s shirt cuffs with solid gold cuff links.  Then he fastened the left side as well.

“True,” Miss Summers agreed.  She smoothed a few golden strands of hair back under her cap.  “But men change their minds at the drop of a hat.  You could run off now and marry someone just because you no longer feel obligated to do it.”  Miss Summers folded her arms defensively.  “What would your sister think if you came home with a new bride?”

William chuckled, and handed Xander his top hat.  “She’s right you know.  Miss Willow just warmed up to Miss Anya recently.  She mightn’t like you jiltin' one lady  and comin’ home with someone new.  All of a sudden like.”

“I’d wouldn’t find it hard to understand.”  Willow Rosenberg strode easily into Xander’s bedroom.  Xander stared openly at her.  She was wearing a man’s suit, similar in cut to his own, and her rich auburn hair was neatly combed into a straight bob with an off-center part.  She had that grim expression Xander knew meant trouble.  “After all–” Her large green eyes met his.  “All I’ve ever known you to do is romp from girl to girl.  Always in love with whoever didn’t love you.  Anya was the first person you really let into your heart.”  She posed dramatically, arms akimbo on her slim hips.  “Can’t you just learn to be satisfied with what you have instead of chasing what you THINK might make you happier?”

Xander had been pacing about the small area near his toilette table and armoire.  Now he stopped to glare at his servants and his stepsister.

“It’s so easy for you to judge me!  Look at you two!  I know you’re sleeping together!”  Xander raged, losing his temper.

Miss Summer’s eyes widened and she flashed William a panicked look.

“Yes, I know all about it!  What kind of a house do you think that makes us look like?”  Xander slapped his thigh briskly.  “And you–” He turned to Willow.  “What about you getting into all that trouble with magical stuff and not even bothering to ask me for help!  I'm as close to a real brother as you'll ever have!”

“Now there’ll be enough of that, sir,” William declared.  He advanced threateningly towards Xander.  Xander found himself cowering back., although he knew William couldn’t hurt him.  He was just a servant and servants didn’t attack their employers.  “Or I’ll fall you even if it means losing my place!”

“Mr. Harris,” Miss Summers said quietly.  “These are things decent people never discuss if they have any respect.  A secret love affair is a secret.”

“And it’s been going on for a while, hasn’t it?  Even when you were pretending not to get along so well at first?” Xander demanded.

William and Miss Summers looked at each other coyly across the room and these silly little smiles spread over their faces.

“What difference does that make?” Willow asked.  “This isn’t about them, not really.  You mooned after Miss Summers for a year or two when she first came to work for us but you lost interest in her as soon as she was widowed!”  She sat casually on the bed, folding one leg under her as she paged through a ledger.  “We need to go over these figures before we can continue building,” she added.

Xander glanced at the porcelain wall clock.  His household was a complete scandal.  But he didn’t want to argue about it just now, he wanted to go have tea. That’s a first!

“I don’t have time right now.  I’m invited to tea.  Don’t lecture me about Dru–Miss Gardiner-- again.”  He stormed out of the room and fled his own house to get away from his own servants.

***********************************************

“Such a pleasure to see you again!”  Mrs. Gardiner seemed to be in a much better mood than she had been earlier in the week. 

Xander watched Drusilla glance shyly at him from her little chair in the shadowed corner of the parlor, farthest from the window, as the butler took his hat and walking stick.  He smiled softly.  She was pretty as a white rose in her pink-and-white striped dress with all its ruffles and ribbon-trimmed sleeves, the skirts trailing gracefully over her chair and completely covering her feet.  Her ebony hair was coiled into a low, smooth chignon behind her head. 

Drusilla had been reading a small book bound in crimson leather.  She tucked it away between her billowing skirts and the side of her chair.  

I bet her feet are just as cute as her hands Xander thought.  He entered the room and bowed slightly to Mrs. Gardiner who proceeded to introduce him to her husband and her third daughter, Jane, a lively, big-boned girl with her mother’s nasty smile.

“Silly-Dru, whatever were you thinking, driving this nice gentleman into the way of a runaway horse?” she scolded her smaller sister.  “You’re an American are you?  Chasing after Silly-Dru!  Any sensible person would have let her alone if she hasn’t the wit to move out of the way.” Jane smiled ingratiatingly at Xander.

“I–” Xander was at a loss for words.  “I wanted to help her because I didn’t want her hurt.  I’m very glad to see you’re looking well,” he told Drusilla gently.

The shy young girl smiled tentatively.  She looked like she wanted to speak but couldn’t quite dare.  He smiled back, allowing all the warmth he was feeling to come out in his friendly brown eyes.

“I’m glad you’ve come, Mr. Harris,” Drusilla finally said softly.  “We have tea and cake and blackberry jam.”

**************************************************

“How did it happen?”  Willow stared at Xander’s face, slackly peaceful in its repose. 

Buffy cleared her throat.  “I don’t know for sure.  Spike found him and brought him to the emergency room, and then he called me.  He was crushed under a giant tree limb.  It had been struck by lightning.”

“Why was he there?”  Willow moaned softly.  “Why didn’t he go home?  He hated lightning, he never would go out in it even when we were kids.”   Her throat tightened and ached with the effort it took to contain the burning tears.  Her oldest friend, her best friend in all the world, was in very real danger.  

Buffy shrugged, utterly miserable.  Willow had been the one who found that stupid camera that had revealed the tableau of Spike and Anya’s passionate consolation. It’s just as much my fault as Xander’s.  I was fooling with Spike, I was using him.  I hurt him. Those thoughts tasted so bitter!  But she could not refute them in her mind no matter what kind of high-and-mighty moral pedestal she put herself on in front of Spike.

Spike had lost his temper, finally revealed their affair to Xander.  It was supposed to have been a secret.  The Slayer had never believed Spike would tell, though he’d recently threatened to.  Tears stung Buffy’s eyes and she was ashamed because the tears weren’t for her fallen friend in the hospital bed.  They were for her own foolish, childish disappointment.

I’m the Slayer, she reminded herself. I’m not supposed to love Spike, I’m not supposed to use his love.  I’m supposed to kill him.

A sob tore out of her and she covered her mouth and left the room.

***     ******************************************************

“Mr. Harris!  How lovely to see you here!  At last!  And Miss Rosenberg!”

Xander smiled politely down at Mrs. Hale, his hostess.  “I’m sorry I haven’t come sooner, ma’am.  But there are attractions at your house I couldn’t refuse.” I’m really getting good at this gallant stuff!  It's fun!

The lovely curvaceous blonde shrugged her white shoulders negligently, and took him by the arm.  Willow, just as fine in a full evening suit, smiled and took Tara’s other arm.

“I never regarded it, all your regrets to my previous gatherings.  Americans are always working too hard.”  Her nose wrinkled enchantingly as she laughed.  “From what I hear your construction business is one of the best known in America!  And the work your company has done in London is very impressive.”  Her blue eyes twinkled. 

“Thank you.”  Xander smiled down at the pretty widow.   Tara MacClay had gone to school with Willow before she was married to old Edward Hale.   The distinguished Peer's demise had left his wife very comfortably endowed.

Mrs. Hale smiled sweetly.  “Shall we dance together, Willow?  I don’t think your brother’s going to ask me.”  She glanced slyly towards the far corner where Drusilla Gardiner sat.  “He seems engaged elsewhere.”

Xander shook his head.  “No! No, there is no engagement!  How many times do I have to say, I barely know the girl!”

“Oh Xander!”  Tara laughed softly.  Xander frowned at her and she continued, “I mean no disrespect.  You know your friendship is very dear to me.  But everyone sees how you are.  All of London talks about it, the dashing young American businessman carrying Miss Gardiner off the street away from certain death!  Someone’s probably already written a story about it!”  She chuckled.  “You’re a hero.”

“A regular knight in shining armor,” Willow commented pertly.  “I was a knight in shining armor once for Halloween!”  She grinned broadly and Tara petted her hand.

"I remember, dearest," she told Willow in her low, tender tone.

“Okay!” Xander rubbed his gloved hands together.  The only trouble with this dream was the old-fashioned setting; the clothes were really binding.  “I confess to having some attraction for Drusilla Gardiner.  But we’re not engaged!”

“She sees things, you know.”  Willow looked very serious.

“I know that.”  Xander shrugged.  "Everybody knows that."

“Her mother thinks she’s going mad.  And her father thinks she’s some sort of abomination.”

“She’s neither!”  Fierce rage kindled in his belly.  “She’s–she’s just a girl. Who sees things.  Lots of people see things."  He raised his arm in a vauge defensive gesture.

“You know,” Tara said quietly.  “Some of the things she sees?  They really happen.  That’s why people are so afraid of her ”

“Afraid?  She’s harmless!”  Xander scoffed.  “She felt like a weightless little bird under my arm.”   He looked again towards the corner where Drusilla sat.  "I'm gonna go talk to her," he declared in a final tone.  "In fact--"  He let go of Tara's arm.  "I'm gonna ask her to dance!" 

He faced his stepsister and her best friend defiantly, daring them to stop him.

"Xander," Willow said quietly.  "This is a ball.  Dancing is encouraged."  She turned to Tara.  "Shall we?" she  suggested with an inviting smile.

"I'd love to!"  Tara beamed. Willow led her friend to the opulent marble ballroom where lively classical music resounded through all the rooms on the lower floors of the house.

Xander strode away towards Drusilla’s little corner.  That tiresome sister of hers, Jane, was pestering her.

“You’re such a stupid Silly-Dru!  What makes you think a gentleman like Mr. Harris would like someone like you?  He’s a fine gentleman with more important things to do than worry about a lunatic wife!  Especially someone so disgustingly skinny, will you eat now for Heaven’s sake?  I don’t know why mother even brings you anywhere when we go out.”

Drusilla sat there quietly, tolerating Jane’s mocking abuse with a stoic expression.  A glitter of pleasure shone in her dark brown eyes as she met Xander’s steady gaze.

“Miss Gardiner.” He bowed elegantly before her (All right!  Now I really feel ridiculous!) “I hope you haven’t signed away all the night’s dances!”  He smiled then.

“She hasn’t signed away any,” Jane said bluntly.  “She sits here in a corner like a cricket.”

“All right!  Look!”  Xander turned to Jane, all good humor gone.  “Would you just go away?” he asked.  “You’re a pill!  And, if you call your sister ‘Silly-Dru’ one more time, I’ll–” Xander thought a moment.  “I’ll throw you off a mountain.”  (There!  Probably not the most kosher thing to say in this day and age but at least I didn’t curse her out!) “Why Jane, I believe you can open your mouth wider when you’re quiet!  Congratulations!” 

Jane was gaping at him, truly cowed by his insulting behavior.  Drusilla sat very still, her lips pressed together.  Gently, Xander reached for her wrist and drew off her dance card with its cunning little pencil on a wrist-strap.   Xander scribbled his name in letters so large it covered the entire card. 

“I believe your schedule is complete, ladies!” he said gallantly.  “Miss Gardiner?  May I fetch some dinner for you?”

“Umm–no, thank you, I think I’m not hungry,” Drusilla answered nervously.  She was intimidated by this bold, tough-spoken American who had just claimed all her dances for the evening ball.   It really wasn’t at all proper.   He smiled at her and her heart skipped pleasantly at his sparkling eyes and charming dimples.  His smiles were warm and real.  That probably wasn’t proper either.

“There’s cake and blackberry jam,” he coaxed her.  “Come on, I think you can eat just a little.”

“Thank you.”  Drusilla smiled shyly.  “I think I might, after all.  Just a little.”

*******************       ***********************

“He’s smiling sometimes.  Can he hear us at all?”  Willow asked the doctor.  She wondered how the man could go about his business so bloodlessly, as though Xander was just any person and not a man she’d loved in so many different ways  since childhood.

“Maybe,” the doctor replied.  “Sometimes it’s hard to know.  A coma like this is unusual.  We have no way of knowing what he’s aware of.  More than likely he’s dreaming.”

Willow sighed.  “At least they might be good dreams.”  Her voice broke.  “How long?” she choked.

“There’s no way to know,” the doctor answered with clinical honesty.  “His injuries from the fallen limb really aren’t that severe, although he was stabbed in several places and lost quite a bit of blood.  He only appears to be in shock.  His body is stable.  I think he could wake up at any time.”

*********************   ***********************

“A picnic was such a good idea, Mr. Harris.”  Drusilla smiled up at him, her pearly teeth gleaming against her rosy lips.  “It’s a beautiful day for it.”

Xander beamed back at her.  Drusilla was shockingly pretty in the glow of sunshine filtering through her pink sunshade.  He enjoyed the pull of his own muscles as he stroked the oars steadily and their boat glided over the pond. 

“It’s always a beautiful day when I see you, Miss Gardiner,” he replied warmly. 

She blushed, a becoming rosy stain on her porcelain cheeks and he chuckled.  She was such a delicate, helpless little thing!  Sometimes he wondered how she had ever managed without him. 

“I’ve learned some new music on the piano,” she said softly.  “Jane says it’s very good.”

“I look forward to hearing it,” he said affably. 

Xander glanced towards the grassy shore where the rest of their party was set up.  Anne Gardiner was flying a kite and shouting enthusiastically about how high she’d gotten it.  In a small pavilion, Mrs. Gardiner was chatting with Jane, Willow, and Tara as they drank their tea.  Mr. Gardiner, a dour old fogey, was sitting against a massive oak tree, his nose buried in the Holy Bible.  Some other guests were playing croquet in a clearing beyond the little pavilion.

“You know,” Drusilla began, then she stopped.

“What?”  Xander felt positively tender towards her. 

“I see things, dream things.”  Her onyx eyes met his evenly.  “And they really happen.”

“Yes?”

She seemed surprised that he would be so accepting of the idea.  Her pretty eyes widened and she smoothed her sleek chignon nervously.

“I always saw my future as very sad.  Very lonely.  But I don’t anymore.  I never saw you as being part of it.”  She was childishly frank, although her voice was really sweet.  “I always dreamed I’d be carried away by a wicked monster.”

Xander nodded.  That didn’t surprise him a bit.  “How do you feel now?” he asked.

“Safe.”  She hesitated then gave a little giggle.  “Happy, too.  Really happy.  I–” Her glance dropped down to her lavender skirts neatly arranged over her shoes.  “I’ve never been so happy before.”  She sounded almost panicked as she said the words and Xander grinned at her modesty. 

“Sweetheart, a wicked monster is carrying you away,” he declared.  “All the way to the New World.”

Drusilla fidgeted nervously with her parasol.

“A New World Monster is carrying you off to queen it over all the society matrons in Maryland,” he assured her.  “Just as soon as you say yes, of course,” he added.

“Oh my!”  Her voice was trembling.  “Oh–Mr. Harris, I–”

Xander stopped rowing and carefully braked the oars so they wouldn’t slip down into the water. Thank God I know how to do this stuff!

“I’d like it very much if you felt comfortable calling me Xander,” he added.

“Yes.”  He could barely hear her sweet whisper.  “I’d really like to.  Very much!”

Suddenly she lost her grip on her parasol and it dropped against the side of the boat, then plopped neatly into the silvery blue water.

Drusilla looked down regretfully into the pond.  It was slightly out of her reach.

“Let me get that for you.”  Xander leaned over and stretched his arm out.  Drusilla’s slight weight was too little to hold the boat steady and it tilted with him, dumping him easily into the warm water.

“XANDER!”  He heard Willow shout from the pavilion on the shore.

************               *********************

“Xander!”  Willow called urgently.  “Please get up!  Please wake up, Xander!”

************              *************************

Drusilla moaned in her sleep.  Tawnie watched her carefully and placed a soothing hand over her pallid forehead.

“It’s all right, little cricket.  There, there.”

“Still can’t believe you did this type of favour on one of them!”

Tawnie turned her eyes up to her grumbling friend.  “Baol, that’s so unkind!  She can’t be all that bad!”

“She’s a vampiress!  Of course she’s bad!”  The dwarf paced around irritably.

“Well, she was kind enough not to let the human kick down your mushrooms!”  Tawnie softly stroked Drusilla’s smooth, dry face.  “Poor darling!  But her dreams are so beautiful!  All she ever wanted was to be accepted and loved.”

Baol glared at the sleeping vampiress.  She was beautiful, if a corpse could be considered so, and her contented little smile made her very appealing.  But Tawnie was such a sap when it came to romantically distressed creatures!  She always had been. 

Tawnie was one of the older faerie people and she didn’t pay mind to the idea that they ought to be more careful about distributing magic in the normal world.

Just like she had done with that shepherd boy, Endymion, who wanted to do nothing but dream his life away because he was in love with the moon. 

He’d prayed for it, and Tawnie had given it to him.  But that was ages ago, people didn’t even believe in that kind of thing anymore.

***************     *********************

“For heaven’s sake, Mr. Harris!”  Mrs. Gardiner exclaimed.  “It was only a parasol!  No need for you to get ducked because of Miss Gardiner’s clumsiness!  Drusilla how could you be so clumsy?”

Xander rounded on the plumpish old lady and managed a smile.

“Drusilla did nothing, ma’am.  The fault was all mine.  She was shocked when I told her how desperate I am to marry her.”  He smiled snidely at the shocked little “O” shape her mouth made.  “I couldn’t let her loose her parasol just for that.”

For a moment, Mrs. Gardiner looked so breathless and indignant  Xander wondered if she would explode. Just a minute!  This is my dream!

“Oh!  Oh my goodness!  Mr. Harris!”  Mrs. Gardiner broke into a wide smile and seemed almost delirious with happiness.  “Mr. Harris, Drusie!  Congratulations!  Oh, my word, isn’t it wonderful!” 

Mr. Gardiner hung behind his wife, smiling calmly.  “Indeed, it is a blessing,” he remarked gravely.  “I’m glad to see our Drusie well-married to a good man.”

Mrs. Gardiner flung her arms around Drusilla and hugged her warmly.  Xander managed a polite smile although, for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why Drusilla had to accept a marriage proposal just for her mother to hug her.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Jane Gardiner huffed.  “Silly-Dru can go live in America.  Who knows?  She might even make friends there?”

Willow Rosenberg, Xander’s stepsister, slapped Jane with the flat of her hand over her bonnet and frowned at her.  Jane let out a surprised squeal and stared at Willow.  “Don’t talk about her like that!”  Willow snapped.  “That’s my sister!”

The remaining guests twittered at American eccentricity and speculated on what Willow might do next as they hovered round the happy couple.

Tara Hale smiled sweetly at Xander and mouthed, “Congratulations!” to him.  She looked deeply happy.

A firm tug on his sodden trousers direct Xander’s attention down to Anne Gardiner.  She grinned.

“We held your tea for you.”  She pointed at the small folding table in the pavilion.  Xander could just make out the dish of little cakes, and cut up fruit and a bowl of dark jam beautifully dappled with afternoon sunlight.

*****************   *********************
“I’m sorry, Miss, but visiting hours are over now.  You have to leave.”

“No!”  Willow turned her huge eyes up to the kind-looking nurse pleadingly.  “I feel like he might wake up!  He seems so close, I’m sure he heard me when I talked to him!”

“I’m sorry, but we have to follow the rules.”

Tara looked concernedly at Willow.  The young woman was pale and fragile-looking.  That was strange because Tara had all too recently become familiar with Willow’s darker, stubborn side.  Now she just looked quiet, desperately pleading with a nameless woman for a little more time.  She didn’t seem to even consider using magic as a way in.  Tara was glad about that, although she felt very sorry for Xander.

“Come on, Willow,” Tara urged in her soft, gentle voice.  “I’ll give you a ride home.”

Slowly, Willow rose from the blue vinyl-covered chair next to the bed.  She gladly accepted Tara’s snugly arm over her shoulders as she picked up her jacket.

“If he wakes up–” she began brokenly.

“The moment he wakes up you’ll be called,” the nurse assured her with a sympathetic smile.  “And he’s getting the best care.”

As she walked with her girlfriend, further down the squeaky-clean hospital hallway towards the cold metal elevator, Willow knew that wasn’t true.  The longer Xander slept, the less likely he was to awaken.  That was true of all coma patients. 

She held herself in a sickly dignified calm.  Her insides felt torn and scalded.  Her best friend, her childhood playmate, the crush of her teen years...Xander was so much to her and now he was taken from her in a horribly unexpected way.

When the frigid steel doors swished shut behind her, Willow burst into sobs. 

“Oh, sweetie!”  Tara tenderly embraced Willow and hugged her lovingly.  “I’m so sorry, baby.”

********************   ************************

Tawnie smiled approvingly.  The vampiress was no longer fighting the spell anymore at all, but sank deeply into the dream. The poor little mite had never outgrown her girlish desires of romance, a wish to be loved, accepted, and taken care of.  That Angelus had committed an unspeakable cruelty, trapping her in his shadow-world after driving her stark raving mad.

One day Tawnie thought, I might pay a visit to Angelus and let him live a dream or two.  One of his nicer ones, he’ll probably hate it! She rubbed her golden hands together gleefully at the thought.

It had been sheer good luck, the boy falling practically upon them like that.  He was looking for a lady-love, a damsel in distress to protect so that he could feel more masculine and powerful!  Tawnie often wondered about that idiosyncrasy in males.  Anyone could see, in virtually any species, how much more dangerous and powerful a female was.

And the irony above all was that the two, the dark little vampiress and the loud boy who liked to kick things, would never have loved each other in the natural course of things on earth.  The boy was too young and foolish to see why he might have been attracted to a mousy, strange little thing like Drusilla.  And, of course, there was that vampire problem.

But that was what made dream magick such a wonderful thing.  Anything was possible.

Sighing contentedly, Tawnie sealed Drusilla in the vacant crypt.  The darling wouldn’t starve, her body would slow itself to metabolise every drop of her last meal, until it simply stopped.  Perhaps then she might stop dreaming.  Tawnie hoped she could remember to come back and check but it didn’t matter much.  It would take a long time to happen.

For just a moment, in the soft dawn, a glimpse of the Faerie woman was visible, like a brief golden shadow. 

And then she was gone.

***************************

Xander brushed Drusilla’s hair with long, gentle strokes of a silver-handled brush.  She smiled softly in the mirror whenever their eyes met.  He wondered how he could have ever had a preference for blondes.  Her hair felt like thick silk in his hands, smooth to the touch, a glossy black ocean reflecting the moon.

He put down the brush and swept her easily into his arms and carried her to their bed.  He set her down gently on the soft muslin sheets trimmed with lace ruffles at the edges.

When he kissed her, Xander was surprised by how fiercely her slim little arms gripped him over his shoulders and she hugged him tight.  He kissed her slowly, enjoying the pleasure of finally being alone with his new wife.

“We are allowed to kiss now, aren’t we?” he whispered playfully against her pretty mouth.

“Oh yes!”  She smiled brilliantly.

“I love you, Cricket,” he assured her, his dark eyes warm with adoration. 

Xander drew a white rose from the generous vase on their night stand.  Very gently, he touched the petals to the side of Drusilla’s cheek.  Her dark eyes closed and she moaned sweetly, tilting her face towards the light caress of the flower.

“There’ll be no more bad dreams,” he promised her.  “No bad monsters to hurt you or take you away.  It’s just us now.”

The crocheted wedding tester hanging above their bed cast a veil of lacy shadow over Drusilla’s face as she smiled happily.  Xander crumbled the rose and carefully dropped the softly scented alabaster petals onto the satin swath of Drusilla's hair.

“I love you too.”

******************************************************

In the dank crypt, the sleeping Drusilla smiled, contented and pleased.  She had never imagined that the dark-eyed boy who cleaved to the Slayer could be her white knight, her precious lover.  Her husband.

**********************************************
The overnight nurse examined Xander Harris carefully, stimulated his hands and limbs for any sign of recovery from his unexplainable coma.  She had no luck and she was sorry.  He was such a young man and his friends were deeply shaken and torn up by his condition.  Still, his body seemed fit and healthy.  There didn’t seem to be a good medical cause for his coma to exist.  Perhaps he would wake suddenly, quickly.

She adjusted his I.V. units and raised his feet with a pillow. 

Xander smiled, very happy, in his sleep.

~End~


Thank you very much for reading “Endymion!”  I am pretty curious to hear what people think about it so drop me a line!  If you’re interested, I’ll add a sequel about how Xander and Dru are “rescued” by the other Scoobies!  But I’ve got other projects I’m into so I won’t do that unless the feedback is good.  Hugs, Plummy


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